


Birthday Boy

by Greenhorn



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, M/M, spoilers?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 14:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14792229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenhorn/pseuds/Greenhorn
Summary: Drunk again.





	Birthday Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!  
> I'm not sure if I'll continue this one so I left it as a oneshot!  
> Big thank you to [AkatsukiOfNight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkatsukiOfNight/pseuds/AkatsukiOfNight)!

“I’m worried about you, Hank.” 

“Don’t be,” came the Lieutenant’s slurred reply. 

Hank hadn’t answered his phone all day. Connor opened the front door after work to find the man unconscious on the kitchen floor, again. 

But today was unlike yesterday. 

Life for Connor was different now that androids had equal rights, recognition as a species and the choice to be more than a machine. If Connor was being honest, his freedom overwhelmed him at times. 

The intoxicated man slumped against the android’s smaller frame, hiccupping. 

“Are you going to be sick, Hank?” He supported the larger man’s weight as he guided him out of the kitchen. 

The man was quiet, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. “Nah… Jesus Connor, leave me alone, will ya?!” The Lieutenant was loud and opinionated no matter his state of mind. Connor was just thankful he arrived home before he started playing Russian roulette. 

“Damnit Connor! I might be old but I ain’t decrepit!” 

“I didn’t say you were, Hank,” 

“So, put me down already!” 

He helped the man walk to his bedroom and laid him down on the bed gently. Connor didn’t have his own room yet. He didn’t really need one since sleep wasn't necessary. He didn’t have his own wardrobe either, but Hank kept mentioning it. He wanted to go out with him and buy new clothes.

There was only one other bedroom in the house, and it was at the end of the hall. The door was closed at all times. 

The bedroom belonged to Cole.

Hank groaned quietly, sprawled out on the mattress. He hadn’t made his bed. Connor should have made it before he left this morning. The android bent down to remove his shoes and socks. 

“…He’d be ten today.” Hank whispered, his voice hoarse. 

Connor paused briefly. He chose not to speak. 

“Accept it… Move on…” The man mumbled into the dark. “Life’s so fucking fragile, it’s scary. You get your heart ripped outta your fucking chest and people expect you to _accept it_ and _move on_.”

The man sat up abruptly, swaying from side to side. “Why the fuck should I, Connor?! He went before his time!" 

The android did not answer. 

“It’s not _their_ child who’s….” 

_Dead_.

“Fuck… It doesn’t feel like five years ago… It felt like yesterday when he…” the man trailed off, in his own head once more.

Connor could hear the pain in Hank’s voice. It hurt.

The man let out a short, humourless laugh. “You’d think the pain would ease after five years… But it still hurts, a piece of me is missin', Connor. My heart aches… My whole fucking _body_ aches.” 

The android understood why the man numbed his pain with whiskey, but it was unapologetically self-destructive. Something inside Connor snapped, flaring deep inside him. 

“Do you think Cole would be happy, Hank?!” 

Connor’s raised voice startled the man, cutting sharply through the stale air. Hank stared up at him with those big blue eyes, dumbfounded. 

“For his father to drink himself to death! High blood pressure, high cholesterol! The only time you ever sleep is when you’re passed out drunk!” 

It wasn’t living. Hank trapped himself in a personalized hell. Connor knew he had suicidal tendencies, punishing himself for something he had no control over. Cole’s death wasn’t his fault. 

“When are you going to start living again, Hank?!” he tossed the second shoe aside, letting it hit the carpet. “When are you going to get your _shit together_?!” 

Connor had never uttered a profanity in his life, but he’d be lying if he said Hank’s uncouth mouth wasn’t starting to rub off on him a little now that they were living together. He wanted the man to understand. 

This came from a place of concern. 

He heard an unruly growl leave the man, like a bear disrupted from hibernation. Hank moved faster than Connor anticipated, catching him off guard as he lunged at him. 

Sumo was most likely sleeping peacefully in the lounge room. 

Loud noises never alerted the canine. He lived with Hank after all. Hank who swore in the shower and played heavy metal music so loudly that his neighbours left written complaints for Connor to find in the mailbox. The ones Hank laughed at. 

Connor stumbled back, landing against the wardrobe behind him with a thud. His hands shot out to grasp the front of Hank’s dark blue shirt in an attempt to stabilize himself - an error of judgement. 

Hank threw a solid punch at Connor, hitting him hard. The man tipped his weight over in the process, unsteady on his feet. There was a brief struggle before they fell onto the floor in a tangled mess of limbs.

Connor could taste blue blood in his mouth. Hank had split his lip open. The android gritted his teeth as the man got on top of him. 

What happened next stunned him. 

Hank wrapped his hands around his throat and _squeezed_. 

“Hank!” he wheezed, gripping the man’s wrists tightly as he tried to pry his hands off him. 

Hank’s blue eyes were ablaze. He was there physically, but he wasn’t _present_. 

“Don’t you dare fuckin' talk for _him_!” 

The most bizarre feeling came over Connor, something he’d never experienced before. Intense. Burning. He stopped resisting. 

Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as Hank squeezed harder.

“I… care… Hank.” Those tears escaped, rolling down his face freely. 

He had never shed a single tear until that moment. Connor had never felt such a strong emotion. 

The wetness on his face felt surreal, the ache in his chest another. His bottom lip trembled, feeling the thirium drip down his chin. 

“Hank… I–” 

He loved the man. He wanted to see him get better. He wanted the best for him. Hank was his family, his salvation, his… everything. 

The foggy glaze over the man’s blue eyes cleared and widened, as if he was jolted out of a dream - a nightmare. 

The grip around his throat loosened.

“…Connor,” Hank whispered, “Fuck, Connor…” Mortified, disbelieving. His words shook out of his mouth.

The android stayed still, staring up at Hank. Watching the clash of emotions.

Tender hands reached up to caress his face. Calloused thumbs and soft material wiped his tears and blood away.

Hank fell down at his side, kissing Connor’s jaw so softly it hurt. He buried his face in his neck. His words muffled against his skin.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Hank held him close.

Connor wrapped his arms around him, letting his eyes close as the man began to weep. He stroked his grey hair gently. 

Hank was broken, and humans were a lot harder to fix than machines. 

The android came to realize that love had the power to heal and destroy an individual. Evoke anger, jealousy and greed. It was fascinating, but no less frightening. 

Hank had gaping wounds that were imperceptible to the naked eye. But with Connor’s love, hopefully one day he could heal his wounds.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you think! Good or bad ;v; I really appreciate any feedback.


End file.
